Celebrating the goddess in every woman
Navratras are the time of the year when we Indians turn enthusiastically religious. Born in a Brahmin family, nurtured by a Christian school, married in Sikh faith and raised in secularism, I’ve followed the Navratras dos and don’ts as a matter convenience.
This year, I accompanied my octogenarian grandmother to the temple for her evening prayers. Well prepared to listen to age-old bhajans, uninterested and phlegmatic, I sat on the floor, legs folded, fiddling with my phone. The enchanting scent of musk and sandalwood from incense sticks, the alluring fragrance of fresh marigoldflowers, the sweet perfume of rose water sprinkled by a dhoti-clad boy, the hub of the tabla, the periodic ringing of the temple bell, the nutty aroma of the prasad; all was having a mystical impact on devotees, as they swayed their heads to the rhythm of instruments played by women in the front row amid the powerful voice of the head priest.
I chuckled, to my grandmother’s disapproval, who signalled me to keep the phone aside as I read a message, on my phone that said: In a class, a teacher asked a student, “Who is your favourite character from Ramayana?” The student thought for a while and in a confident voice answered, “Ravana”. Amid laughter in the class, the teacher enquired the reason and the student answered, “Ravana was a scholar. He left his kingdom behind when his sister was disrespected. Even after taking away his enemy’s wife, Sita, he didn’t touch her. With all his courage, he accepted defeat at the hands of Rama. He didn’t play foul.”
After a few bhajans, the head priest said, “This Navratri let’s pray that no Durga is aborted and no Saraswati is stopped from going to school. May no Lakshmi beg for money from her husband and no Parvati be sacrificed for dowry. This Navratra, no Sita should suffer in silence and no Kali given a tube of fairness cream. Let us respect every woman.”
I fixed my gaze on him, a man in his late fifties, attired in saffron, forehead smeared with vermilion, and wrists covered with the red raksha sutra. I sat there startled, still registering his unusual and unanticipated words, as he continued, “Every woman who awakens courage within herself is Durga; every woman who awakens transformation within herself is Kali; every woman who awakens devotion within herself is Parvati; every woman who awakens nurturing within herself is Annapurna; every woman who awakens Shiva within herself is Shakti. Navrataras is about celebrating the goddess within every woman,” he said to a loud applause.
EVERY WOMAN WHO AWAKENS COURAGE WITHIN HERSELF IS DURGA, EVERY WOMAN WHO AWAKENS TRANSFORMATION WITHIN SELF IS KALI